Vulnerabilities
by Bookworm Gal
Summary: The world is saved from an alien invasion by monsters. That means everything is fine now, right? Turns out, not exactly. While some people are willing to welcome them with open arms, others still see them as dangerous and want them gone. And no one is truly invincible. Someone is trying to destroy them one by one, targeting their individual weaknesses. How will they survive?
1. Secret Meeting

**Do not expect quick updates, but here's another story for your viewing pleasure. This is what happens when someone enjoys the 50s and 60s movie monster parody that is "Monsters Vs Aliens," has taken way too many science classes, and has some questions about what might have happened after the film. I don't intend to use anything from the television show (so no size-shifting Susan or aliens sharing the base with the monsters), though the bonus shorts "Bob's Big Break" and "Mutant Pumpkins from Outer Space" will be taken into account. And while I'll try to inject some humor at times similar to what was in the film, there will also be plenty of serious peril. Not to mention science, both of the real variety and the nonsensical variety that laughs in the face of the square/cube law. Oh, and world-building. There will be some world-building. Because that's fun.**

**Okay, traditional disclaimer time. I do not own "Monsters Vs Aliens" or any of the older films that gave inspiration for its creation in the first place. If I did own them, then the cartoon series would be replaced by an appropriate sequel that actually included Insectosaurus (who is male and still called Insectosaurus in this story instead of changing the name to Butterflysaurus just because he can fly now). Anything that seems vaguely familiar is probably from the film. If it doesn't seem familiar, that's probably the work of my deranged imagination. And anything that is my creation can be borrowed with permission if you're interested. Just FYI.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story even with the warning about slow updates.**

Vulnerabilities

They were in a darkened room around a large table, as was to be expected for these types of mysterious meetings. There were no windows to the room and the small group of members was careful not to draw any attention when arriving at the location (a difficult challenge for one particular individual and his preference to be noticed). The only light in the room shone on the table itself while casting shadows across their faces. If they were going to have clandestine meetings to discuss the future of the world, they intended to do things according to the book.

Granted, the book in question was 'Secret Cabals for Dummies," but you work with what you can get.

There were five figure seated around the table. Four of them were wearing long robes with hoods to conceal their features better. The fifth refused out of concern that it would ruin his hair. Considering the fact all of them knew each others' identities anyway and the outfits were mostly for effect and because it was expected, they let him get away with the refusal.

One of the hooded figures, slightly hunched over, pushed a magazine to the center of the table. On the cover was a picture of a woman and several smaller shapes that weren't quite human.

"We all know why we are here," he said in a gravelly voice. "As troubling as the alien situation might have been, there is a far more concerning problem closer to home. And the public can't even recognize the danger. Now even the media is working against us."

"That could have been _my_ story," the unhooded figure muttered. "But she had to be so overly-emotional and sensitive about everything. Those things ruined my career. They ruined me."

"Everything isn't about you," the third figure, female, said in a nearly frantic tone. "Do you realize how dangerous those things are? I do. I heard everything. They are horrible, destructive—"

"We do understand, Miss," the fourth member interrupted. "The rest of the county and even the rest of the planet are the ones who don't understand the magnitude of what is happening." She waved her hand towards the magazine. "I've read the interview with their leader and the other articles. The population will be lulled into a false sense of security by the media. They don't want to see the truth; that those crimes against nature and science are potential disasters waiting to happen."

"That's why we're here," said the fifth person, his voice suggesting that he was originally from the south-eastern part of the country. "Someone has to stop them. The president sure isn't going to. I told my neighbor not to vote for him, but he didn't listen. I said there was something I didn't like about the guy, but no one could see what I was talking about. Now look what happened to our country. Chaos and jumbo bugs."

"Jumbo bugs," said the first figure, his gravelly voice resonating with authority. "Living blobs. People twisted by science and chance." There was disgust and hatred in his tone as he spoke. "Fish-monkey freaks. Monsters are running free. And it is only a matter of time before they turn on us. Unless, of course, we take action first. We must protect the world from those things."

"And we got to do it fast," the fifth person said. "The magazines and alien-fighting will make them popular."

"That shouldn't be an issue," the fourth person figure remarked. "With my knowledge, your inventory, the information from two of our members, and our leader's guidance and funding, we should be able to deal with the problem quickly. That's why Humans Against Monsters was founded. Together, we can succeed."

"I still think I should be in charge," the unhooded member grumbled.

The third person patted his shoulder, "Cheer up. We need your insight in regards to the newest monster. I only learned about the earlier ones before being forced out of the room."

"I guess so," he said. "You aren't going to hurt her, right? I mean, she humiliated me for no reason and ruined everything, but she was kind of nice before she turned into a freak and I definitely wouldn't want to get tangled up into some kind of legal trouble if something happened to her."

"Of course not," the gravelly voice assured. "She used to be human and sane. I'm sure she can see reason. There's no need to resort to extreme measures to deal with her." He slid a few sheets of paper across the table to various members, "Here's a rough outline of the plans so far. I'll leave the details of how to make them work to the experts. Professor, do you believe you are up to the task?"

The fourth member nodded her head, "Ever since they printed that article, I've been considering what we know quite carefully and formulating a few possibilities. I might have to order a few specific ingredients for the reaction to work, but I think I have it figured out."

"Very good," the gravelly-voiced, hunched-over figure nodded before turning to the fifth member. "And do you think you can handle the larger problem?"

"Sure thing, boss. I deal with that problem all the time, just not usually on this scale. But you know what they say about how the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Getting enough in-stock might be a little expensive and distributing it whenever we track them down might be tricky, but you've got the cash and I know a guy who won't ask questions and will disappear after the job's done. He even has one of those crop-dusting planes he won in an auction a few years back that he likes to take for spin every now and then. He'll take it as a challenge."

"That is good to hear," he said. "The others will require more planning and might involve getting closer to our targets."

"No," gasped the second member, her voice sounding panicked at the very idea.

"I'm afraid so," he continued. "But that discussion is best saved for another day. For now, focus on those we can handle at a distance. Removing even a few of the monsters will leave those that remain vulnerable. The more we destroy, the easier it will become."

"United we stand, divided they fall," the fifth figure nodded.

"And so ends this meeting of Humans Against Monsters, also known as HAM," stated the gravelly-voiced man solemnly. "Everyone knows their role. I look forward to hearing the progress so far when next we meet."

The five figures then rose from their chairs and started to leave. Mere seconds later, there was a series of crashes and yelps that left at least one of the members shaking their head in pity.

"Could someone turn on another light before I break my neck tripping over the chair again?" the unhooded figure said. "Who's idea was it to huddle in a dark room like this anyway?"

* * *

General Warren R. Monger was probably the expert when it came to dealing with monsters. Not only was Monster Wrangling his minor in college, but he possessed enough hands-on experience in his ninety years or so of life that he could predict the probable equipment an operation might for any given situation. Like how he knew, to take a completely random example, that a giant hypodermic needle with a sedative and a trampoline would be useful when investigating a meteor strike. He knew what types of circumstances could lead to the creation or reveal of monsters and the best ways to handle their appearance. He also knew how to recognize those who were truly monstrous and those who worth saving.

That particular skill wasn't one he'd always possessed. Originally, his purpose was to locate, isolate, and destroy all monsters. They were generally a danger to the public and always something that the government wanted swept under the rug before they could be distracting to tax-payers. Destroying them was simpler. Of course, he wasn't a general back then. He didn't get promoted that title until years later. At the time, he was just good at his job and slightly scary to his superiors who found it easier not to argue with his suggestions. So he spent about eight years cleaning up all the monsters that came crawling out of the darkness.

Then 1958 happened. Specifically, Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate came into existence and started eating a few blocks of the city. Monger and everyone else present that day came to the realization that they literally could throw every weapon and strategy at the blue blob of mass and it wouldn't cause any damage. For once, they couldn't destroy the monster.

Monger was proud to admit that he was the one who suggested that, since they couldn't follow their usual course of action, they could always imprison it for the time being. His superiors loved the idea. Not only did it mean they didn't have to admit defeat, but it also gave them an excuse to order Monger to remain in the top-secret underground base to guard the thing and _not_ be around them. He didn't mind the assignment. It turned out he liked guarding monsters almost as much as he liked chasing them down.

Initially, there were a few more attempts to destroy their captured monster. The blob monster, quickly named Bob by those involved (but mostly Monger), simply them off. And it wasn't an evil or cruel laugh either. It was a cheerful and friendly laugh. He turned out to be friendly, sweet, innocent beyond belief, and dumber than a bag of rocks. And somehow that was enough to catch the man's attention. The chaos surrounding Bob's first moments of existence wasn't born out of malicious or aggressive intentions; he was just too brainless to know better. True, he couldn't let a random blue blob that could dissolve almost anything go wandering the streets of any small town, but Bob didn't need to be destroyed for simply being a monster either.

The next monster to really capture his interest was in 1961. There were others between those years, destroyed like those in the past since they weren't indestructible like Bob and certainly lived up to their title of monsters. Though the swarm of giant locusts heading towards Chicago was an exciting mission with a few close calls. But the year of 1961 was the one where he found himself on Cocoa Beach, staring at a scaled creature as it managed to fight off several would-be attackers.

He should have had it shot on sight. At the time, it would have made sense for him to make that decision. After all, the amphibious creature was kidnapping co-eds from the beach (...lots of co-eds...) and holding off members of the National Guard, the Coast Guard, and a very determined lifeguard. It was clearly dangerous. But Monger actually paused to notice the situation and realized that the long-frozen creature wasn't as aggressive as he first appeared.

After capturing the Missing Link, he interviewed those involved in the incident and found that most of the girls weren't traumatized by their experience. In fact, they claimed he actually seemed rather sweet after the whole kidnapping thing and almost seemed like he was trying to "protect" them from the would-be rescuers. One of the smarter girls who was taking a few science and history classes suggested that his species might have possessed a single dominant male protecting a large group of females in the same way that troops of gorillas did. They also said he seemed to find everyone screaming and freaking out to be amusing. In the end, the only people who really seemed upset about the situation were the boyfriends of a couple of the girls involved who claimed the fish-ape who couldn't even speak English was nicer and more considerate than they were. Needless to say, their testimony helped cement Monger's decision about keeping the Missing Link.

While his newest addition to the base started learning English by listening to Monger, the radio provided as stimulation for the prisoners, and Bob (how the blue blob knew how to speak from the start was still a mystery), the man continued to keep an eye out for other monsters that didn't seem quite as dangerous or aggressive. He couldn't let the monsters wander around free, even if he thought it was a good idea (which he certainly didn't). But he could at least spare those that seemed at least half-decent.

In exchange for funding to expand and run the top-secret base, they started handling monster issues across the globe. No government wanted to have their population distracted by the idea of horrible freaks of nature were running around and decided to pay America to fix their problems. So Monger met the self-declared mad scientist who decided to experiment on himself September 12, 1962. And while apparently the British people could deal with bad teeth and an obsession with tea, bug-headed geniuses were a little too creepy for them. But even with newly-renamed Dr Cockroach's tendency to laugh maniacally and the fact he wasn't necessarily the sanest person to ever hold a test tube, he was remarkably polite and considerate before he was informed about being locked up forever. Thus, Monger added another prisoner to the base rather than seek a way to destroy the former human.

Unfortunately, while having the educated monster there to finish catching Link up to the modern era and supervising Bob's dumber decisions was helpful, he also encouraged an era of escape attempts by the prisoners. It seemed that Dr Cockroach was not one to give up on his past freedom simply because he managed to give himself the head of an insect and even managed to hold a minor grudge about the entire thing. There was even a point where Monger was convinced the mad scientist would attempt to take over the world in retaliation if he ever escaped. At least the regular escape attempts kept him busy. Some of the other soldiers in the base started take bets on how far the monsters would get next time and how long it would take for them to give up.

Their next prisoner showed up in 1964. Or rather, he didn't show up. The Invisible Man wasn't exactly the easiest guy to catch, but they somehow managed. And since he was still fairly rational after his accident (who in their right mind thought going swimming in a vat of glowing purple goo for a bet was a good idea?), Monger moved him to the base with the others. From there, the Invisible Man spent the majority of his time mocking anyone and anything he wanted to while safe in the knowledge that he could hide from any form of retaliation. He seemed to particularly enjoy targeting Dr Cockroach. From his mad scientist tendencies to his insect-based traits to the fact he possessed a Ph.D in dance, everything was considered mocking material. Most of the people working at the base found him kind of entertaining. There was talk at one point of sneaking him out of his cell for the base's yearly talent show, though Monger quickly squashed that idea. Needless to say, Dr Cockroach preferred not to involve him with the escape attempts.

That was what clued Monger on to the fact that the Invisible Man wasn't quite accepted by the others. Sure, Bob was friendly towards him, but Bob was friendly to everyone. And sometimes Link would joke around or play cards with the Invisible Man. But while every escape plan that Dr Cockroach would devise would include taking Bob and Link with him, none of them seemed very concerned about the Invisible Man coming along with them. It was as if the trio had formed their own little collection of monsters and he was the outcast. Or rather, they were the group of outcasts and he was the closest to normal, minus the transparency thing. When he eventually died in the 1980s, they were upset about the loss (except for the oblivious Bob), but Monger had a feeling it would have been far worse if they were closer to the Invisible Man.

So Monger kept doing his job, even being promoted to general, and was eventually called in to deal with the biggest challenge yet. In 1969, the irradiated larva showed up in Tokyo, demonstrating its incredible size and mutation. He didn't know how the Japanese government explained the entire incident and the damage caused by Insectosaurus teething on the buildings, but Monger was simply thankful that he'd had the foresight to greatly expand the base. The income from handling international monsters was useful at times. Otherwise there wouldn't be room for the 350-foot tall grub with the rest of the imprisoned monsters.

After the particular challenge of guiding an oversized insect from Japan to a secret base in Nevada, the general was halfway concerned that he would be dealing with even more insane escape attempts from his prisoners. There was only so much they could do if the monsters decided to use the giant larva to smash their way out, no matter how much the walls were reinforced. Instead, the escape attempts essentially stopped. It took Monger about five months to figure it out. Since Insectosaurus really couldn't escape and hide with them, none of them felt they could leave. Link was far too attached to the radiation-mutated grub (apparently ancient fish-apes had a similar enough language to overgrown larvae that communication was possible) and that meant he was part of the group. And none of them would abandon the other.

It was almost a relief over the next few decades that the escape attempts stopped, though. Serving as the warden for the odd collection of individuals while still handling the less-cooperative monsters that popped up on occasion left the man wondering sometimes about his role. Was he guarding the world from the dangers of his prisoners? Or was he protecting the surprisingly-nice monsters from the world? Because if there was one thing he'd realized in his life, it was the fact that humans could be pretty monstrous to each other even without random mutation or radiation.

Still, there were days were he wished that things were different. But as long as the government wanted to keep monsters out of the public's knowledge, there wasn't much he could do to change things. All he could do was keep them from sharing the fate of the more dangerous and aggressive monsters.

And then 2008 rolled around and about fifty years of tradition was tossed out the window. The capture of Ginormica (who still insisted on being called Susan half the time) was fairly straightforward and simple. Dealing with large monsters was a piece of cake by now. There were some momentary doubts about putting a female monster with the collection of male ones, but Monger figured that the frightened and confused giantess would be better off with them than placing her in some form of solitary confinement. Social interactions were important to maintain well-adjusted monsters, after all. But what really threw a monkey wrench in everything was Gallaxhar's robotic probe. For once, Monger saw a way to bargain on his prisoners' behalf. He found a way to make them important and worth having around, ensuring they could get exactly what they deserved. Granted, he didn't expect his bargain with the president to result in the destruction of the Golden Gate Bridge, the near invasion by alien clones, or apparently being elected to the president's senior security staff, but it all worked out in the end.

So General Warren R. Monger was still an expert on monsters, but he was no longer their warden. They still spent most of their free time in their corner of the base (mostly because of size concerns for a couple of the members), but they weren't locked up there. They could come and go as they liked. The limits on access to outside objects were mostly gone (though Dr Cockroach still wasn't getting any plutonium or uranium for the foreseeable future), so their former cells and the common room were now properly decorated and stocked with belongings. The custom-built, large-screen television was particularly welcomed. Whenever they weren't out handling various disasters of the world (regardless of whether the source was natural, alien, or monster-related), they tended to relax in their former prison. For the monsters, this was their home.

And now that they were common knowledge to the rest of the world, Monger was beginning to see some of the results. Specifically, he was dealing with their mail.

There was a huge pile of mail on his desk at the moment. Some of it was fairly important paperwork. After all, Monger did take the time to make sure there was now documentation declaring every monster under his charge was officially US citizens and awarding them all the rights and responsibilities that status implied. Trying to convince the bureaucrats that a 350-foot tall mutant butterfly and a 20,000 year old fish-ape were sentient beings and to declare them citizens of the country they helped save _now_ wasn't exactly easy, but he took care of it. He was actually looking forward to the day someone tried to summon one of them for jury duty because that was bound to be entertaining.

What he was less prepared for was the waves of fan mail and requests for interviews that were being sent at an alarming rate to his monsters. Granted, these letters and packages weren't mailed to the address of the top secret, underground base. They were sent to a P.O. Box maintained specifically for these types of occasions. But Monger never expected the sheer volume of mail. Not to mention all the patents for Dr Cockroach's inventions or requests from biologists and paleontologists who just wanted to speak to Link for ten minutes...

There were days where Monger just wanted to turn his jetpack on the pile of letter and packages, burning all them into ash. It would certainly make things easier for him. But he was never one to simply take the easy way. Otherwise, he wouldn't have five monsters living in the secret underground base in the first place.

* * *

When she was a little girl, Susan used to dream about getting married. She always pictured walking down the aisle in a white dress, ready to spend the rest of her life with the perfect man. He would be handsome and successful, but he'd also love her with all his heart and that was the most important part of her childhood dream. And they would travel the world, going to far off places and seeing amazing sights. It would be amazing.

That was her dream. It was the future her parents would always talk about, the one her friends would discuss, and the one that she believed was the only possible future for a girl to desire. All the fairy tales ended with the prince finding the girl after all those adventures and dangers, marrying her, and everyone living happily ever after. And since every happily ever after involved marriage, Susan knew that was her only true goal in life. After all, she wanted to be happy and marrying the perfect man was apparently the only way to be happy. So when a charming man came along, one who reminded her of those storybook princes and who promised to let her see the world while being his pretty homemaker, she figured that this was her happily ever after. She thought her dream was about to come true.

Of course, in her childhood dreams, she didn't end up being hit by a meteor. And her imagination never considered the possibility of turning huge on her wedding day. Not to mention that her future husband never turned out to be a horrible jerk when she pictured her happy ending. It turned out real life and fairytales rarely matched.

But in a lot of ways, her wedding turning into a disaster was probably one of the best things that ever happened to her. Yes, the immediate result was her being taken away from everyone she knew and locked up with a bunch of monsters. And she did end up face to face with a giant robot that tried to attack her. But all of this let her figure out the truth about the kind of man Derek Dietl was, gain some confidence in her own abilities, and realize that she could be anyone that she wanted to be and have any type of happily ever after she wanted. It also let her gain the best and most loyal friends she could have ever dreamed of.

Susan Murphy was no longer the little girl who thought the only future that made sense was one where she simply got married. She'd grown up. Granted, she'd grown up into a 49-foot-11 ½-inch tall woman who could punch through supposedly-indestructible force fields, but that was kind of amazing. She lived in an underground, secret base with a bunch of monsters who were equally amazing and they went out to save the day on a semi-regular basis. She was seeing the world by flying on the back of a giant mutant butterfly. She wasn't just a homemaker, depending on a husband to have a purpose. She was a capable hero who could make a difference. She was Ginormica.

Smiling slightly to herself, she pushed herself up from her custom-made bed. Everything in her room was custom-made and most of it was made of reinforced metal. It was the only way to have anything the right size for her to use. Her bed, side table, and the cabinet for her clothes were all crafted from thick steel. Her mattress and pillow were made of some weird substance that she couldn't identify, but at least offered a little bit of comfort when sleeping. She knew her blanket was made of rather thick and durable material, but it felt like a normal piece of fabric from her perspective.

She only had a few outfits, most of them the grey jumpsuits with orange stripes and the logo for the secret underground base and one black extraterrestrial leotard that she kept folded up in the back of her cabinet. She could probably put in a request for more clothes, but the fact that her job was fighting and stopping various problems across the globe meant she needed to consider practicality more than fashion when it came to how she dressed. Along with her clothes were a metal comb (hairbrushes didn't scale up very easily), a toothbrush, two towels, and a few other personal hygiene necessities.

On her walls were enlarged versions of photos of her parents and one of her friends in Paris (the kitten poster long since gone). On the side table was a clock they somehow made durable for her to use the snooze button on without breaking the thing. She tried to be careful with it, but some mornings she knew she was a little rough with the device.

Attached to her room was a (relatively) small bathroom. There was a sink, a toilet, and a shower constructed out of thick metal and a clear material that was probably used for spacecrafts or containing explosions. Rather than constructing giant bottles and containers, there were dispensers built into the shower for her shampoo, conditioner, and liquid soap. There were days she missed taking warm bubble baths, but that was kind of a minor concern.

It wasn't exactly a professionally-decorated space. In fact, most people would probably think it was kind of plain. Of course, it was amazing compared to how things used to be before Gallaxhar's defeat. She was happy with her room. While the rest of the world was now too small for her, this one room was made specifically to fit her.

Of course, she was getting used to seeing the world from her new perspective. She knew how to pick up and interact with people now without the risk of harming them on accident. She'd learned to pay close attention to where everyone was at all times so she didn't step on someone. True, sometimes there was collateral damage to her surroundings. She wasn't perfect and the world was pretty fragile in comparison to her. But she was getting better.

Slipping on her tennis shoes and pulling her comb briefly through her hair, Susan stepped out to the common room. Again, nearly a year of renovations since her first arrival left the space more comfortable and less like a prison. Part of the space was a large sofa-like structure she could sit on. The back of it was attached to a series of platforms and stairs, allowing her to be at face-level with her fellow monsters and interact with them without having to loom above them all the time. The platforms served as tables for her and floors for her roommates. There were even a few computer screens that could pop out of one of the "floors" for mission briefings.

Further alterations included a semi-conjoined room that was mostly empty that was perfect for spending time with Insectosaurus without worry about him accidentally destroying something (it was tough enough reinforcing things for a 49-foot woman without worrying about the 350-foot butterfly crushing them). There was also what she referred to as the mad scientist corner for Dr Cockroach to experiment on whatever caught his attention that day. Now that he wasn't a prisoner, he had access to real lab equipment, test tubes filled with various colored chemicals, and a collection of wires and mechanical parts. There was another corner had a built-in lagoon, complete with rocks and palm trees, for Link's enjoyment. There was also an area for Bob to play around on that was essentially a jungle-gym for indestructable blobs. Finally, on one wall was the recently-installed, custom-made, giant television screen. She was already planning movie night for the group.

She couldn't fit comfortably into their individual rooms, but Susan also knew that Link had another nice tank of water in his and that Bob's now included a fridge for his green jello. As for Dr Cockroach's room, all she knew for certain was that it held the dozens of science journals that he now subscribed to. And books. Lots of books. He'd obviously missed having anything to read other than pieces of newspapers that arrived in the garbage.

As she sat down on the sofa, she heard the distant roar of Insectosaurus. It was one of his more conversational roars, softer and shorter than normal, so Susan knew that Link would be chatting with the butterfly. She couldn't understand the giant insect like Link, but she could at least recognize what some of his roars indicated. Bob was staring at the television in wide-eyed wonder, apparently not even slightly concerned that the screen was blank. And as she expected, she could already hear the evil laughs coming from Dr Cockroach's workspace.

"Good morning," she greeted him, picking up the large metal mug of coffee already waiting for her.

"Good morning, Susan," called the mad scientist, stepping away from his work to approach her. "Did you enjoy sleeping in a little?"

Smiling slightly, she said, "Considering the fact we got in about two o'clock this morning after dealing with a pack of large killer rabbits, I think I earned an extra hour of rest."

"Actually, the correct term would be a colony of large killer rabbits," he remarked. "And we wouldn't have been out as late if someone just thought to contact us a little sooner. There would have been a smaller number to deal with."

"I guess we'll just have to cross them off the list of 'Oversized Monsters We've Encountered'," she said with a shrug.

"I always figured that giant killer sheep would show up before rabbits would," remarked Link as he came loping into the room. "At least some of them have horns. That makes them look kind of dangerous, right? Whoever thinks that the fluffy, long-eared rodents could be so violent?"

"They aren't rodents," Dr Cockroach began to correct, but Bob was already waving his arm around.

"I did! I did! I always knew they would be trouble. With their long furry tails, their chittery voices, and how they store acorns for winter, it was only a matter of time."

"Bob, that's a squirrel. Not a rabbit," Susan said.

"Oh... Then what's the one that lives at the North Pole with the white beard and delivers presents?"

"That's Santa Claus," she said patiently.

"He's nothing like a squirrel," said Link. "And he's not even re—"

"Why don't we save that particular discussion for another day," Dr Cockroach interrupted.

Susan nodded, "Right. We could start thinking about what movies to watch during our movie night this Friday. Assuming, of course, that no one decides to take a swim in radioactive goo that night and no UFOs decide to visit. You guys missed out decades of films, so you guys get first choice."

"I say we go for an action movie," said Link. "Something with explosions, fighting, and lots of people screaming in panic."

"I don't suppose there's any interesting documentaries about the mechanics surrounding a black hole, are there?" Dr Cockroach asked.

A brief roar from Insectosaurus prompted the fish-ape to yell back, "We are _not_ watching a chick-flick for our first movie night. You can watch 'The Composition Book' another time."

"How about that movie about the cartoon animals that can talk and fight against the bad guys?" suggested Bob, sliding closer to the rest of the group. "Can we watch that one? Please, please, please?"

"You mean 'Martial Arts Bear'?" asked Susan. "That might be a good choice." She glanced at the other monsters, "Can you guys live with that?"

Link shrugged, "Sure. There's fighting in it, so it can't be too boring."

"I suppose spending the evening watching an anthropomorphic bear learn martial arts in order to defend his home and community could be entertaining," nodded Dr Cockroach. "Though I'm sure a documentary about black holes would have been fun too."

"If by 'fun', you mean it would put everyone to sleep, then you'd be right," smirked the fish-ape before frowning. "Wait, this movie doesn't have singing in it, right? Those singing cartoon movies always end up getting stuck in my head."

Susan smiled as Link and Dr Cockroach continued their argument/discussion about the movie choices, she couldn't help being thankful for how her life turned out. It was certainly a life that she could never have predicted. But she was happy here with her fellow monsters.

Some people looked at them and saw a mindless glob of goo capable of dissolving almost anything, a strong and savage fish-ape from a primitive and dangerous time period, a giant insect that could crush buildings and blow over objects with his huge wingspan, and a mad scientist who created deadly inventions and was insane enough to experiment on himself so that he was no longer human. Susan looked at them and saw sweet and innocent Bob, protective and loyal Link, playful and cute Insectosaurus, and smart and considerate Dr Cockroach. And she wanted the world to see them the way she did.

That was why she contacted Clark Lane about a month ago. He was a former classmate of Derek's. She remembered that he was a nice and honest guy who always seemed more concerned about integrity and fairness than publicity. So she gave him the story of a lifetime. The world wanted to know about monsters now that they were no longer a government secret, so (with the permission of her friends and promising Monger not to actually name the secret underground base) she told him exactly what the public needed to hear.

She talked about Bob's origins at Old Man Carl's snack food company and how, even when he was first created and started eating the surrounding area, he didn't actually hurt anyone. She talked about Link's original confusion about waking up in the modern age and how he assumed the humans around his old territory were just really weird-looking fish-apes (though she left out the part about how funny he eventually found freaking out everyone was). She talked about how Dr Cockroach's experiment was intended as a way to make humans more durable and protected from harm, a way to help people. She talked about Insectosaurus being just a baby when he showed up in Tokyo, confused and in discomfort from the fact he was teething (and grubs weren't even meant to have teeth). She talked about her first few days after becoming a giant. She gave detailed descriptions about the events in San Francisco and on Gallaxhar's ship, making sure to give everyone credit for their role. She told Clark Lane everything she could think of that would help the world understand her friends, to make them realize how special and amazing the monsters truly were.

She wanted them to be accepted. Not just by a few people, but everyone. She wanted the world to understand why she, Susan Murphy, preferred being a giant monster living underground to her childhood dream of being married and ordinary.

Because she could no longer imagine living in a world where she didn't have her friends around.

**Fun facts time: 1958 is the year that "Attack of the 50-Foot Woman" and "The Blob" (the film that inspired the creation of Bob) was released. So I figured that 1958 would work as the year the Bob was created (almost everyone else had their inspiring films either too early or too late in the timeline to use for them).**

**As for Dr Cockroach, the date of his experiment can be seen in the footage that Monger shows the president. The clipboard reads "Test #78: Mutation Enhancement: September 12, 1962." That was a helpful detail. Coincidentally, 1962 is also the year "King Kong vs Godzilla" was released. Since "Bob's Big Break" has Bob, Link, Dr Cockroach, and the Invisible Man present and doesn't mention Insectosaurus during 1968, I used that to help figure out the rest of the timeline of when everyone would have arrived at Area Fift—argh!**

**In regards to Link, 1961 is the year "Mothra" (one of the inspirations for Insectosaurus) came out and it falls within the right time span for Link's arrival. As for the arrival of Insectosaurus, 1969 is the year the Godzilla movie "All Monsters Attack" came out. **

**As for when the Invisible Man arrived, I decided to use 1964. That is the year that a particular horrible B-movie was created. It is called "The Creeping Terror." True, that's technically an alien movie rather than a monster movie. On the other hand, anything that has the antagonist look like a clump of shag carpet probably isn't advanced enough to count as an extraterrestrial and deserves to be ridiculed. So the Invisible Man's arrival at the base will be 1964.**

**Yes, I didn't have to mention a monster movie for every year I used in regards to the monsters' arrivals. But I wanted to anyway. I'm just weird like that.**

**In regards to the description of Susan's room, I got a little too involved in considering the complications of a giantess living in a normal-sized world and what would be required for her to be comfortable. As for comment about giant killer rabbits, that's a reference to a movie called "Night of the Lepus." Basically, they'll use any kind of giant monster for a movie apparently.**

**So while Susan and the gang are pretty happy with life at the moment, someone is plotting against them. Hopefully things will start picking up in the next chapter. Of course, I have no idea when I'll have it written. Still, hopefully you'll enjoy the story regardless of how slow updates are.**


	2. Chemistry

**Thanks to a spark of inspiration, some free time, and some lovely reviews, I've managed to hurry up with another chapter for this story. I want to especially thank Wordmangler for his kind and insightful feedback.**

**I do apologize about there not being a lot of action in the first chapter beyond the HAM meeting. Perhaps this update will rectify that problem. Oh, and if you are a new reader of my stories, I should warn you. I tend to do evil things to characters I like.**

There were plenty of people who would wonder who in their right mind would decide to experiment on themselves when it came to mutation, but most people were too afraid to take the risks necessary in the pursuit of science. Of course, those people also didn't end up with an insectoid head and being locked up for several decades. What could he say? Those who were bold enough to try something great sometimes ended up with unforeseen results.

For the most part, he'd long since decided that the benefits of his transformation far outweighed the downsides. True, his turtlenecks were now a little trickier to wear and his sense of taste was certainly altered from before, which in turn resulted in a very different diet. On the other hand, his intentions to make humans resistant to radiation and more durable against physical harm were certainly a success. The ability to scurry and cling to most surfaces was merely a pleasant surprise. What he couldn't have predicted was the disruption to his aging process and how he seemed essentially the same age he was at the time of his experiment (which was certainly better than the possible alternative since _Periplaneta americana _have only been recorded living 706 days at maximum). Even if he'd retained a normal rate of human aging, he'd be currently reaching the twilight of his lifespan (though the general demonstrated that even age wasn't an insurmountable challenge). Instead, he was instead seeing an improvement to his life after several years of tedious monotony. If it wasn't for his decision to subject himself to his experiments in 1961, he would not be sitting among some of the most intriguing and oddly-endearing companions he could have possibly imagined.

He listened carefully to Susan patiently explain to Bob that eating part of the calendar would not, in fact, make time go faster so that he could enjoy movie night. She was quite astounding sometimes and not simply due to her enormous size and strength (he'd naturally studied those traits quite extensively both in the process of trying to restore her to normal and after the events concerning the robot probe and Gallaxhar). She was a sweet young woman with a thankful mild temper. He could only imagine the chaos and destruction that could have unfolded if the Quantonium affected someone less concerned with doing the right thing, someone who might lash out at the world for the unfairness of her situation. In the wrong hands, the substance could make someone truly dangerous and monstrous. Instead, she would rather discuss the reasons why throwing a clock would not "make time fly" with a brainless blob than use her power to harm the innocent. There was a reason why it was so easy to think of her as Susan rather than Ginormica.

He, in comparison, could hardly even think of himself as anyone except "Dr Cockroach" by this point. He'd used that name far longer than the one he was born with, which was one he never recalled being fond of anyway. There were days, during that long and monotonous time period after he'd stopped his escape attempts and could barely keep his brilliant mind occupied, that he needed to remind himself that he wasn't always combined with the physiology of an insect. He'd been in his current state so long it seemed difficult to imagine what it was like back when he was merely a mad scientist with a flair for dance and discomfort with what was considered normal social interactions. Though he suspected his head would feel oddly light if he were to spontaneously change back to being completely human...

Shaking his head briefly to clear his thoughts of such fantastical whimsies, he decided to turn his mind to far more productive concepts. Self-reflection could be saved for another time. A far more beneficial activity would be to work on one of his inventions. Or perhaps he could borrow Bob for some studies. The last time he did any examinations of the sentient amorphous monster was back in the days where his equipment mostly consisted of two tin cans, four rubber bands, a coffee filter, the half-burned filaments from three light bulbs, a paperclip, and a size 12 left shoe. It could be informative to compare those results (and the sparse reports recorded by the scientists who studied him immediately after Bob's capture) to those he collected with more conventional materials.

"Hey, Doc," said Link, a large hand landing on his shoulder and pulling him out of his thoughts. "Zoning out on us?"

"I was not 'zoning out.' I'm merely contemplating a few ideas," he corrected.

Giving the mad scientist a sharp-toothed smirk, he commented, "I would have thought you could do that without staring into space like Bob. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Maybe you're finally losing it."

Dr Cockroach's antennas twitched briefly in annoyance. Even after decades together, there were days that he honestly considered regretting the completion of Link's education on the modern era and the English language (though Bob and Monger apparently did enough damage already to ensure that he spoke with an American accent and idioms). At the time, he'd been desperate for any possible activity to provide mental stimulus. High intelligence rarely dealt with prolonged captivity well without something to occupy its time and teaching his fellow monster, planning escape attempts and revenge for his incarceration, and devising methods to perform experiments with minimalistic materials certainly kept his mind busy.

Of course, if Link was still using the awkward sentence fragments to communicate, he'd only be able share comments like that with Insectosaurus (who was clearly a moth rather than a butterfly if anyone actually noticed the feathery antennas and the indications that he was originally a mutated silkworm), Still, even on the days when the pisimian (which sounded far more official than "fish-ape," though he intended to propose the scientific name of _Kollikodon pseudopisces_ whenever he got around to publishing his research on that topic) acted in a manner reminiscent of the physically-imposing brutes of the scientist's childhood days, Dr Cockroach generally preferred to keep things the way they were.

Besides, Link didn't mean any harm. Unlike those hooligans who thought taking candy from smaller children by force was an acceptable action. That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't make his annoyance with the comment clear.

"You do recall that month I inadvertently turned your scales pink," he remarked calmly. "Keep in mind I could replicate that result quite easily."

"Okay. You know I was just messing with you, Doc," Link said, holding his hands up in surrender. "No need to break out the mad science."

"I know. Besides, I doubt Susan would be happy with either of us if we become involved in a petty feud or an immature prank war over something so minor," he said. Then with a slight smirk, he added quietly, "Though I shall be sure to save the idea in case a certain weatherman gets any ideas. It should have similar effects on hair."

As the mad scientist enjoyed a brief evil laugh, Link gained a predatory smirk at the idea. Even before the events of San Francisco, all the monsters felt fond and rather protective of their newest member. Then Derek broke her heart after she believed in him and loved him. If she hadn't later stood up to that man concerning his behavior and ended the relationship on her terms, it was only a question if it would have been the mad scientist or the ancient pisimian that tracked Derek down for the necessary "conversation." And if the weatherman should ever develop any ideas of harming Susan in the future, possibly using his connection to the media, none of them would hesitate to remind the man of why messing with monsters was a foolish idea.

Of course, General Monger already visited Derek concerning the reasons why it would be wise to leave the topic of Ginormica alone. And having the newest member of the president's senior security staff "politely" suggest being quiet undoubtedly would leave a lasting impression on anyone with reasonable intelligence.

As if summoned by the mad scientist's thoughts, the giant portrait of the president on the wall split in half and Monger flew in through the revealed portal. The man truly loved his jetpack.

"Mail call, monsters," he announced, soaring straight into the middle of the room.

Another door opened, this one on the lowest level of the common room. A jeep rolled in with a large canvas bag in the back. Why the general would insist on using his personal jetpack rather than ride in the jeep, the mad scientist could only guess. Of course, he tended to laugh manically at regular intervals. Who was he to judge a man's eccentricities?

"More letters from Modesto Elementary?" asked Susan, leaving her conversation with Bob in order to delicately lift the mail bag out of the jeep.

"Affirmative, among other correspondences," he said. "I'll leave you to it."

This time, he flew down to the level of the jeep and soared out the same way they did. Once more, it raised the question of why he didn't ride with the jeep in the first place, but no one really expected a sensible answer to that question.

"Lovely. Perhaps my scientific journal with the article about a recent study on the changes in bee populations has arrived," commented Dr Cockroach as he scurried over to start sorting the mail.

Ever since the defeat of Gallaxhar and especially after the events on Halloween, the monsters were especially popular in Modesto. The children now regularly sent letters to all of them as part of their class projects, teaching the young minds the fading art of proper letter construction. Some merely expressed their fondness for the monsters, which was nice to hear regardless of the spelling and grammar of some of the students. Others asked questions that were eagerly answered. Granted, the mad scientist sometimes needed to clarify his explanations for the children. Not all of them were child prodigies who taught themselves enough about biology, chemistry, physics, engineering, and mechanics that there was no need for the more formal classes at the university on those topics.

Of course, not everyone could deal with the letters that easily. While he'd made certain to impart the skills of reading and writing to Link over the years, Bob was considered a lost cause from the start. As for the letters intended for Susan (and the rare one for Insectosaurus, usually from little girls with a fondness for colorful insects), there were the size issue. For practicality, Link tended to read Bob and Insectosaurus's mail to them while Dr Cockroach handled Susan's. Bob could at least be trusted to open packages without problems so long as someone reminded him not just eat the boxes. And made sure he remembered the instructions. He rather liked being helpful at opening them, so they let him. Susan's dexterity, unfortunately, was simply not precise enough to handle the tiny, thin objects or even the cardboard boxes. The scale just didn't work.

There were about seven packages this time, which were addressed to various members, and four piles of mail (none for Insectosaurus this time). He knew that Susan would prefer to start with the letters from the children rather than those from the paranoid conspiracy theorists, the overzealous scientists who couldn't even bother to notice she was a lovely young lady rather than just an experiment, vulgar young men who should never be allowed near anyone female, or the attempts to have her sign up for a credit card. Sometimes he tried to spare her the worst of the letters, but he didn't like the idea of concealing things from her. There were simply some things no gentleman would feel comfortable reading to a young woman.

"Your first letter is from young Mary Parker," he read. "She says she was wondering if you ate all your vegetables as a little girl and if that is why you are so tall."

"Aww... That's so sweet," smiled Susan. "Remind me to let her know I did eat all my vegetables growing up, but that's not why I'm a giant."

"Okay, Bob, your letter is from some kid named Peter Watson," read Link. "He says he thinks you are really cool, though the Missing Link is obviously better."

"Link," scolded Susan gently.

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "He wants to know if you could jump off a building without getting hurt."

"Uh... Forty-two. The answer is definitely forty-two," Bob stated firmly. "So what did I win?"

Chuckling slightly, Susan said, "Sorry, Bob, but there isn't any prize."

"Are you sure? What about in those boxes over there?" he asked, pointing at the pile of packages. "Could the prize be in there? Is it hiding? It is playing hide-and-seek? Can I play?"

"How about you check the boxes for us?" suggested Dr Cockroach. "Just be careful about opening them. Don't eat them."

"Okay," he nodded cheerfull.

"What did I say?"

"Eat them?"

"No, Bob. _Don't_ eat them."

"Okay."

"Say it back to me."

"Say what back to you?"

"What I told you about the boxes."

"Oh, that?"

"Yes. What did I say?"

"Don't beat Jim."

The mad scientist closed his eyes and surrendered, "Very good. Go ahead and open the boxes. Gently."

* * *

He couldn't wait to see what his prize would be. Maybe it would be something really neat. Maybe a giant jar of pickles. He remembered talking about them before. That would be awesome. He couldn't wait to find his giant jar of pickles.

Was he related to any pickles? He paused a moment, trying to recall. Pickles were like salty cucumbers and cucumbers grew in gardens. Mom used to live in a nice garden. Maybe the cucumbers grew next to the tomato plants. He couldn't eat pickles then. It would be rude to eat his parent's neighbors. At least, it sounded rude. Would the giant jar of pickles mind? He'd ask Susan or Doc later. They probably knew.

What was he doing again? Oh right, opening the boxes. Not eating them. Don't eat the boxes until after opening them. That was important. There might be pickles inside. And don't beat Jim.

Who was Jim? And why couldn't he beat him? He was getting better at cards and Susan was teaching him how to play tic-tac-toe. Was Jim really good at games? Or was he really bad and Bob wasn't supposed to beat him because it would make him sad? And what did Jim have to do with boxes. After a little consideration on the matter, Bob just shrugged and turned back to the packages.

He happily picked up the first box he could reach, almost forgetting to be careful. They always tell him to be gentle with the mail. Don't eat it. Open it carefully. It was very important to do it right. And if he did it right, that meant he was important too. Right? That made sense. It certainly made more sense than why people drive on a parkway and park in a driveway.

It took a few minutes of picking at the tape to pull it loose from the cardboard, but the box eventually opened. Bob peered inside and saw a bunch of glass beakers and test tube things. Excellent. The new order of lab equipment had finally arrived and he could now finish a few of his waiting experiments.

…No, wait. That was Dr Cockroach. Something exploded when he was working a few days ago and needed new science things. And he didn't have to build all this doohickeys out of trash anymore. That was nice.

Setting down the box gently (glass breaks, he needed to be extra careful), Bob popped the pieces of torn off tape in his mouth. Then he "ate" them. Bob felt the tape dissolving, a nice kind-of plastic-y flavor. He could eat lots of stuff, but he actually had to decide to eat it or else it would just float around inside him. That was a good thing because it would be bad to eat anything he absorbed without deciding to. It would make hugging a lot trickier. And it might hurt his friends if he accidentally ate them.

He wasn't exactly clear on the idea of "pain." He knew it was a bad feeling and that it meant there was something wrong with them. And he sort of knew that if someone was hurt too much, they would go away forever. Like the ham he had for dinner last night. Nope, it was a good thing that he only ate what he wanted to eat. That way none of his friends would get hurt or disappear like ham. But the tape from the box was good.

Moving over to the next box, Bob noticed something. He wasn't completely stupid. He could read. A little. Sort of. Maybe. What was he thinking about?

Oh, right. Reading. He knew what his name looked like. He did. There was a thing. A line with bumps. Then a round thing. Then another bumpy line, though that one sometimes only had one bump. Bob. That was his name. And he could read it sort of.

It was on the box. His name was on the box. That meant the box was for him. Maybe his prize was inside, like how there was supposed to be a prize at the bottom of a box of cereal. Though he never found those prizes because he tended to eat the whole box of cereal at once, cardboard and all. But he wasn't supposed to eat these boxes, just open them.

This box had a lot more tape than the last one. Lots and lots of tape. He almost decided to speed things up by just eating the whole box and dissolving the cardboard to open it, but he wasn't supposed to eat the boxes. Anyway, it would also dissolve everything inside, so it would be better to open it the slow way. So he kept pulling off the tape.

As he pulled at the last stubborn piece of tape, the only thing separating him from his prize, he smiled. Even if it turned out to be a giant jar of pickles and it ended up being rude to eat them, it would still be neat. Or maybe it was jell-o, though he couldn't betray his precious green jell-o like that. Regardless, Bob was excited to see what was inside.

The instant he opened the cardboard flaps of the box, a clear liquid erupted out and splattered across his blue surface. Bob only had a moment to be confused before he felt something strange. The sensation, similarly unpleasant as the times he tried to eat too much, spread everywhere he was hit. It quickly grew worse, leaving him uselessly trying to ooze away from the bad feeling.

Then he realized that what he was feeling was pain.

And it kept getting worse, _worse, __**worse**_.

* * *

All signs of a normal morning for the monsters evaporated the moment Dr Cockroach heard a sound he'd never imagined hearing in all the decades he'd lived in the underground secret base: Bob yelping in real and honest pain. That supposedly impossible achievement caused the mad scientist to drop the letters and sent his mind racing over possibilities.

"Bob?" said Susan as she turned towards where the blob had been happily opening packages.

All attention was now on the blue shape that seemed to be cringing and sliding backwards from the pile of boxes, whimpering and yelping in confused pain. Occasionally an arm formed to scramble across his shape in a panic before vanishing once more. But as horrifying and unbelievable as it might be to see someone who was both a friend and supposedly indestructible in obvious pain, the scientist found the other symptoms to be far more alarming. Across part of his surface was a strange discoloration, a shade of gray rather than the normal deep blue, which was quickly spreading out across the monster. Furthermore, there was clear bubbling in those areas indicating the release of gas.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," whimpered Bob, eye closed tight as he kept trying to escape the source of his pain.

His mind was racing. All signs indicated a chemical reaction. Damaging Bob with physical forces or heat were pointless, but causing a reaction on a molecular level was possible. The scientist had managed to alter it before temporarily, turning the brainless blob into a mind reader (though he'd been attempting to make his fellow monster explosive for an escape attempt since it wouldn't actually harm Bob). But he knew of some theoretical ways to cause a more impressive chemical reaction, though the substances necessary were not those that would be encountered on accident. This was deliberate.

"Ouch," yelped Susan, her attempts to reach out to the pained and frightened monster resulting in injury, a slight burn mark on her hand.

Exothermic then, not caustic. That narrowed the possibilities down. Halting the reaction required knowing what he was dealing with, but there was no time to study the substance. Based on past knowledge, the color change, production of a gas, and the release of heat, he could guess what he was dealing with. And with that knowledge came the most likely way to counter the chemical reaction.

He couldn't afford to worry about his friend at the moment or wonder about how his occurred in the first place. Time was not on their side, regardless of how it appeared to slow down as his thoughts raced. Relativity only did so much.

"Link, General. Now," he said shortly as he scurried towards his workstation with all the speed that his mutated body could produce.

He knew Link, who'd been staring in stunned horror at the fact something was essentially dissolving Bob, would follow his brief instructions. Now was not the time for questions or delays. Dr Cockroach grabbed various beakers of chemicals, going over the necessary reactions and structures in his mind as he combined them to form the proper substance. Still moving quickly, the mad scientist headed straight for the distressed monster.

The coloration changes were more extensive, giving him a very pale appearance. He also looked a lot smaller than normal, slumping down into a more puddle-like shape. And while his normal viscosity ranged between that of rubber and strawberry jam, Bob now looked closer to a fruit smoothie. As the scientist drew near, he could feel the heat radiating off him as the reaction continued within the brainless monster. And he knew that the reaction would continue until all of the reagent was gone. Until all of _Bob_ was gone.

"This should help," he said in what he hoped sounded like a reassuring manner before he poured the contents of his beaker over what was left of their friend.

There was an instant reaction to his concoction, a flaky black powder forming along the surface. The creation of the precipitate indicated his hypothesis of the substance used against Bob was correct. And while some might still try to react with the Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate that composed the monster, most of the reactions would now be between the other chemicals. It wouldn't be pleasant for Bob for a while, but it should keep him from getting any worse. The black powder would have to be cleaned up later, though.

"What in Sam Hill is going on around here?" asked General Monger as he flew in, a very concerned Link matching the speed of the jetpack.

Not looking up from where he was observing the now-pale-gray, mushy, and still slightly whimpering glob, Dr Cockroach answered tensely, "It would seem that someone intended to kill Bob. And they came far closer than I'm comfortable with, General."

* * *

How could the day have gone so wrong, so fast? Susan nursed the slight burn on her hand from when she tried to pick up Bob when he started crying out in pain. He wasn't supposed to get hurt. Not only because he was pretty much impervious to harm, but also because it just didn't seem fair to hurt someone so sweet and innocent. Bob wouldn't hurt anyone. He might occasionally give a hug to someone and have to be reminded of their need to breathe, but he was too nice to actually hurt someone. It all happened so fast. One minute, they are all distracted with their letters. The next, Bob is practically melting and Dr Cockroach is dumping chemicals on him to stop it. Thank goodness for having residential mad scientists around to fix horrible accidents.

But now Dr Cockroach was saying it wasn't an accident. He said someone tried to hurt him deliberately.

"What are you talking about?" asked Monger, eyes glancing between the scientist and the pitiful-looking blob.

"I've had decades to understand Bob's molecular structure. I know which chemicals will react with his unique makeup, though anyone who knows his full name and has taken enough chemistry classes could make an educated guess or two. The important thing is I know exactly what would cause him to abruptly start falling apart like that, which is also why I know what would halt the chemical reaction," explained the mad scientist. "There is no way that he would start reacting like that by mere chance or accident. The substances that would be required are not common outside of a lab. And I know better than to keep such things anywhere that he might come into contact with them. So when I say that someone deliberately tried to destroy Bob, it means that there is no other option."

"And just how would someone attempt such a thing," he asked, a sharpness in his tone that suggested that he was taking an attack on one of his monsters very personally.

"Bad prize box," said Bob quietly, his voice a muffled, tired, and pained sound that caused a lump to form in Susan's chest.

Dr Cockroach scurried over to where the packages were, peering inside one of the open boxes. His antennas flattened and a frown formed on his face.

"Clever trick," he muttered before glancing at his audience. "Someone rigged a canister in this box to spray out a liquid when they opened the package. That's how Bob was affected. I suppose we should be grateful he didn't just absorb the box."

"They definitely meant for Bob to have it," growled Link, glancing at the label. "The thing's addressed to him. And when I figure out who sent this, I'm going to make the wish that Gallaxhar got a hold of them."

"While certainly an appealing proposal, I doubt they were kind enough to provide a return address," Dr Cockroach stated.

Susan glanced uneasily at the gray shape and asked, "Is he going to be all right? I mean, he looks... smaller."

"He lost some mass when it was released as a gas during the chemical reactions, but he should theoretically be able to recover it over time," the mad scientist answered. "Theoretically, of course. I recommend a great deal of rest until his molecular structure is stabilized, followed by small and frequent meals to allow him to make up the lost mass. It'll take time, but it should return him to normal eventually."

"Hear that? Nap time for Bob. Doctor's orders," said Link, trying to sooth the smaller gray glob that was looking around uneasily with his (smaller) eye.

Taking care to make sure she wouldn't end up with another burn, Susan gently slid the liquid-y monster into her hand. It felt wrong. Bob was normally thicker than this. But she didn't want to upset him any more than his close encounter already had, so she kept a reassuring smile on her face as she carried him over to the door for his room. Even if she couldn't really fit inside, she could at least slip her hand inside.

"You try and feel better, okay?" she said.

"Okay," he mumbled, sounding like he was already falling asleep as she poured him into the cushion-covered, bowl-shaped depression he tended to use as a bed.

Turning her attention back to the rest of her boys, Susan heard Monger already shouting out orders that seemed focused on tracking down wherever the package came from, increasing security, and examining all future mail for possible threats. She wrapped her arms around herself as the man flew out the door with his jetpack, a look of angry determination on his face that seemed to echo in the expressions on her fellow monsters. None of them liked the idea of someone attacking one of their own, let alone someone apparently coming so close to destroying them. But while they looked upset by the events of the last few minutes, she couldn't help the growing feeling of guilt.

"This is all my fault," she said quietly.

Apparently she didn't say it quiet enough because Link looked up at her and asked, "How could this be your fault? You're not the one who decided to mail some kind of... Bob-melting goop."

"It wasn't goop," muttered Dr Cockroach, but Susan started to explain before he could elaborate further.

"In the article Clark Lane published, I told him about Bob. About all of us, but I mentioned his full name. Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate. And if they figured out how to hurt him because of his name like Dr Cockroach said they could, then it's my fault. They used what I told him, what I let him publish, to hurt Bob."

"My dear, there is no way you could have possibly known this would happen," the mad scientist assured, his antennas flattening. "You had the best of intentions. And if someone was determined to do us harm, they would have learned Bob's full name and molecular structure regardless. Now that monsters are known to the public, it isn't exactly a heavily-guarded secret."

"Just because someone decided to be an idiot and thought hurting our friend was a good idea to ensure a long and un-painful life doesn't make it your fault, Suzie," said Link. "They're the ones who messed with us. And they're the ones who'll have to deal with me whenever we figure out who to beat to a pulp."

Susan felt rather divided by that sentiment. On the one hand, she didn't want to hurt people if she could help it and she definitely didn't want her friends to do something they'd regret. Or would cause everyone to be terrified of them again (as opposed to merely some people). And if they did try to beat someone to a pulp, they'd probably be locked up for another fifty years. On the other hand, she hated the idea that someone would purposefully try to destroy the sweetest and most innocent monster in the entire base. And while Susan knew she didn't have a particularly volatile temper, trying to kill her friends certainly sparked it. At the moment, her anger at the attack was buried under guilt and worry about Bob. But it was only a matter of time before the desire to lash out at those who hurt him became more prominent. And she knew how effective her anger could be when she actually allowed it to control her actions. The last person who tried to kill her friends was Gallaxhar, after all.

"What I'm concerned about, however, is motivation," commented Dr Cockroach thoughtfully.

"Kind of obvious, Doc," Link said. "We're monsters."

"I understand that there will always be those who fear and hate those who are different and that is certainly enough motivation for an attack, why would they target Bob specifically? Unless they happened to live in the city blocks he attacked upon his initial creation and has held a grudge for the property destruction for fifty years, he is actually one of the least likely of us to have provoked such a thing. At least, on an individual basis."

"What's your point?" he asked, crossing his arms.

The mad scientist glanced around at his fellow monsters uneasily, "I'm afraid they might not be satisfied with just attacking one of us. They could intend to destroy all of us."

**Okay, I definitely want to say I put some actual thought into devising a more appropriate name for Link's species. **_**Kollikodon**_** is a genus of an extinct monotreme (egg-laying mammal) called**_** Kollikodon ritchiei. **_**All they actually found of the skeleton was a few teeth and other tiny bits, so they don't know exactly what the species would look like. What they do know is that this species existed 100 million years ago and is assumed to at least be semi-aquatic. It is in the same suborder as a platypus and the fossil was found in Australia. Considering there would still be millions of years between the time period of **_**Kollikodon ritchiei **_**and Link's time period, that's certainly long enough for some migration to North America and some evolution. As for the species name for Link, **_**pseudopisces**_** translates into "fake fish." Perhaps not the most creative nomenclature ever devised, but it is certainly better than some of the real ones. **_**Gorilla gorilla**_** is the scientific name for a particular species of gorilla, after all.**

**As for the common name that Dr Cockroach thinks is more appropriate for Link's species, that's due to a suggestion by Wordmangler. It is sort of a pun of "pisces" for fish and "simian" for ape, meaning pisimian still essentially means "fish-ape."**

**No, there doesn't seem to be an actual elementary school in Modesto called "Modesto Elementary." However, since they essentially portrayed Modesto as a generic small town in the film rather than base it on the actual location, I felt using a similarly generic name for the school would be all right.**

**I figure Bob has to be able to decide whether or not to dissolve something he absorbs. Otherwise, Susan's mom and Derek would be gone just like the other things Bob ate. And while "Benzoate" and "Bicarbonate" are real chemicals with actual structures I can study, "Ostylezene" is not. But we're going to pretend it is a real chemical structure with understandable properties. We're going to pretend that Osylezene is something that they could teach in college chemistry classes, sketching out how they would react with different acids, bases, esters, ethers, etc. Of course, if all three were real, then I could have worked out exactly what it would require to cause some chemical reactions. Which would be a lot of work for me. So I simply drew upon the various chemistry labs I've taken and did my best.**

**Don't expect another update for this story for a while. I just wanted to go ahead and give you a chapter with a little action. This fast update is the exception, not the norm. But feedback is appreciated anyway. Thanks.**


	3. Protective Instincts

**Yeah, time for another quick update. What can I say? I'm trying to get a bit of the story written and I'm ending up with several chapters all at once. It'll slow down eventually. I have other stories to work on, after all. **

**I don't have a lot of details available for the exact chemistry at play with Bob since about a third of his molecular structure is made-up for the movie, but I came up with details that would occur during chemical reactions. If you're interested in the science-type explanation, here it is. If you aren't, just skip ahead to the actual update. I won't mind.**

**Since he has the ability to dissolve lots of substances, it implies that he would be fairly reactive with the right circumstances. Though he doesn't necessarily have to be an acid to dissolve stuff. The human body is more likely to dissolve in a base than an acid (we're slightly acidic in nature). If you want a substance that can do damage to a large variety of materials without being an acid or a base, Chlorine trifluoride can burn through flesh, glass, rock, and concrete. But Bob isn't made of that. He's not quite that insanely reactive and deadly. But Benzoate has a pH less than 4.5 while Bicarbonate has a pH of 10.3, so the exact acidity of Bob as a whole is difficult to predict since Ostylezene is still a mystery to us. So since we don't know his exact molecular makeup, I can't properly identify the stuff used against him. So let's call it Unknown X for the moment.**

**Based on the speed that was required for the scene, I decided that the reaction would need to be exothermic. It would produce heat during the reaction, which meant that the substance (and Bob) was releasing heat during the process. Color change is another common sign of a chemical reaction as well as bubbling (which is the release of gas and why Bob shrank while he was being affected).**

**Some combinations of chemicals are more reactant with each other than other combinations. They have a lower initial energy required to start the reaction. Dr Cockroach added a chemical that reacted more strongly with Unknown X than Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate did. Thus, the reaction stopped affecting Bob as much and the new substance went through a reaction instead. This would use up the reagent (Unknown X) before it could completely destroy Bob. The black flakey solid formed during the process, the precipitate, is another indication of a chemical reaction. Rather than producing a gas, the new reaction formed a solid on the surface as a by-product.**

**And there's my semi-scientific explanation for what happened to Bob. But now it is time to get on to the more important stuff. So just sit back and enjoy the story.**

Well, Professor, I think your concoction worked," remarked the hooded figure in his gravelly voice. "Ms Ronson says that during the meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff last evening, General Monger mentioned that one of his monsters would be out of commission for the foreseeable future."

"According to the president, it was 'the blue squishy one.' His favorite," she confirmed with a shrug. "No one ever pays attention to the lady holding the tea."

"Now, we don't know whether that means the monster is merely injured or it is actually dead and the general simply doesn't wish to admit it," the gravelly-voiced figure said.

"Trust me, there is no possible way they could figure out what chemicals I used before the reaction was complete, let alone devise an appropriate way to counter it. There simply wouldn't be enough time," the other female member stated. "The creature is destroyed. I guarantee it."

"If that is your expert opinion, Professor, then we will proceed as if that monster is gone," he stated before turning to another HAM member. "Does your friend have his plane supplied and ready?"

The figure with a southern accent said, "Yep. We even brought it over to this end of the country to make it easier. All we need to do is wait for those varmints to poke their heads out."

"Something will happen to prompt the monsters to leave their lair," said the gravelly-voiced member. "And if it takes too long, we'll arrange something to get their attention. For the good of humanity, of course."

At that moment, the door to the darkened room opened and the unhooded member of HAM stumbled in. After nearly falling on his face by tripping over a chair leg, he quickly checked over his clothes and hair for damage. Once assured his appearance was still perfect, he turned his attention back to the group.

"So what did I miss?" he asked.

* * *

Although over a week had passed since the disaster that nearly killed Bob and left him nearly sleeping constantly since, they were no closer to an answer about who was responsible. There was no return address, no one at the post office could recall who dropped off the package, and here seemed to be no obvious hints about where it came from. Link hated the idea that someone could hurt his friend and get away with it. He hated feeling helpless, but he couldn't do anything until someone told him who to blame.

He was the brawn of the team, not the brains. Well, he was the more precise brawn while Susan was the large-scale version. She was stronger, but sometimes they needed someone smaller and who wouldn't destroy the surroundings. Dr Cockroach compared it to a sledgehammer and a scalpel. Of course, the mad scientist was the smart one of the group. He was the one who figured out the answers to complicated problems.

It had always been that way. Even in the beginning, back when Link barely understood anything the humans (and Bob) said to him, Dr Cockroach was trying to use his brain to understand and solve all problems. He spent months teaching the reluctant student both the local language and the major changes the world experienced while Link was frozen. And no amount of macho posturing or refusal to cooperate could stop Dr Cockroach from his self-appointed task. By the end of the lessons, he wanted to throw the mad scientist through a wall and yet was grudgingly thankful to finally understand what was going on. Then Dr Cockroach turned his attention to asking lots of questions about his past, trying to apparently solve the mystery of Link's species.

He could still recall which details the mad scientist focused on. Dr Cockroach seemed particularly interested in the fact the females laid eggs, the babies spent at least a month in the water before climbing onto land, and that they formed proper family groups with the toughest guy leading the girls rather than whatever system the humans apparently used. The mad scientist poked at him a little, muttering things like "partially amphibious lifecycle," "most likely a monotreme," and "semi-exothermic." Then he complained about the impossibilities of an egg-laying species having a bellybutton, but he quickly dropped the topic the instant Link commented about the problems of a human-cockroach combo. In fact, the doc refused to talk to him for the rest of the day after that. But he never truly stopped thinking about it. About a month before the more concerning recent events, Dr Cockroach ran over to him with a scientific journal, peered into the back of Link's mouth (without asking first), and then scurried away while muttering "_Kollikodon__"_ or something.

Thinking was what Dr Cockroach did. And even if his escape plans never succeeded, his brains never stopped working. So if there was anyone who could figure out who tried to kill Bob, it would be the doc. He was already compiling a list of people who would have access to the necessary chemicals and possessed the knowledge to pull of the attack. It was only a matter of time.

He just hated waiting around and doing nothing. Dr Cockroach was the one who was doing the hunting for the creep, making use of the first computer he'd had in decades that didn't require the use of chewing gum and tin cans to construct. Susan was alternating between trying to help the mad scientist, looming over the door to Bob's room semi-protectively, and looking guilt-ridden regardless of how they reassured her that it wasn't her fault.

As if attacking Bob didn't already provide enough reason to punch the mystery attacker, upsetting Suzie set his pointy teeth on edge. Even if she lacked proper scales or a tail, he still considered her to be essentially his giant little sister and someone had to look after her. Actually, someone had to keep an eye on all his fellow monsters.

The world was different when Link was growing up. He couldn't even begin to describe all the changes. Back in the days that he went by a different name, one he doubted anyone else alive could even hope to pronounce, knew what to expect out of his relatively simple and straightforward life. Grow up, find a bunch of females on the beach to take home, and raise a bunch of kids. Of course, he kind of ruined that plan when he decided to explore a little bit to the north after hearing some stories about weird scale-less and tail-less freaks wandering around and ended up an adolescent icicle for his trouble. So now he got to experience a world with a warmer climate, vacation destinations, screaming babes on the beach, and not another single member of his species left. But at least one thing was still semi-familiar: the idea of a family and protecting them. So what if his particular family didn't exactly match what it was supposed to be? It was still his family of monsters and it was his job to keep it safe from anyone dumb enough to mess with it.

"What are we going to do about this?" he asked, staring up at his audience_._

"_You and Doc will fix it_," roared Insectosaurus.

He'd been surprised when the general first brought the giant grub to the base. Not just because of the sheer size of the monster, but also because the first thing out of the insect's mouth once the light was gone was to ask what happened. And while Bob and Dr Cockroach just covered their ears at the volume, Link was too busy laughing at hearing the familiar language once again. Yes, there was a weird accent to it and Insectosaurus could speak it far louder than anyone else, but it was the language that Link grew up speaking. What were the chances of that?

So while the mad scientist tried to calculate the extreme improbability of a mutated grub speaking the same language as an ancient species of fish-apes that appeared on different continents on in vastly different time periods, Link worked on teaching their newest member to understand the English language. _Speaking_ it certainly was never going to work (though the weird sounds Insectosaurus made while trying to was rather entertaining), but at least the giant monster could understand everyone now.

Insectosaurus was extremely young when he was brought in and didn't seem to age very quickly at all. There were times even after he gained wings that he acted like he was still a child. He was larger than most buildings, but he still needed someone to look after him. So while all the monsters were considered part of Link's family group, Insectosaurus was the one that was definitely considered _his_. What this meant was that the giant monster had a particular name for him that no amount of explaining could change.

…And Link wasn't even sure he wanted Insectosaurus to change it anymore.

"_You and Doc and Susan will fix it. I know you will, Papa_," the giant monster roared. "_You'll find the bad people who hurt Bob. Then they'll be gone and we'll have movie night._"

Link climbed up the large butterfly-like creature (though Dr. Cockroach kept saying he was a moth and it was amusing to annoy the mad scientist by saying "butterfly" instead) and he found a cozy spot on top of Insectosaurus's head. He quickly scratched around his antennas, producing a rather happy sound from the overgrown kid.

The large head radiated heat, just like the rest of the furry body. He remembered the mad scientist commenting that while normal insects were exothermic, anything the size of Insectosaurus would have to be at least somewhat endothermic. Then he started babbling about dinosaurs and old theories about being cold-blooded being discarded due to a better understanding of the necessary physics, but Link started ignoring him once he started using words with more than a dozen letters in them. All he knew was that Insectosaurus felt really nice when he started feeling chilly.

"You're right. The doc will figure it out eventually. I just hate waiting around like this. It makes me feel useless."

"_You're not useless. But the world is really big and there are lots of tiny humans all over the place. And lots of them look the same. Except Susan, but she's a little bigger and easier to see. And Monger, but he can fly_," Insectosaurus rumbled. "_We need to know where to look for the bad people or we won't find them. But we will, Papa. We'll find them and no one else will get hurt._"

"I hope so," he muttered.

"_We __**will**__. I know it. You won't let the bad people hurt anyone else because you're Papa. And that's what papas do. And didn't you say Doc is the smartest person in the whole world and could figure out anything if he put his mind to it?"_

He nodded grudgingly, "Yeah, just don't tell him I said that."

"_Then he'll figure out who the bad people are. Just be patient. If you believe in those around you, even the impossible can happen."_

"You got that line from that weird chick flick you saw on television, didn't you? What is it with you and cheesy romance movies?" Link asked.

Insectosaurus shrugged, which looked more like he was fluttering his wings, "_I like them. What's wrong with the idea that true love can conquer all and that there is someone out there for everyone?_"

"One, it is cheesy and girly. Two, those movies tend to have the girls talking about their feelings way too much and not enough action. I'm surprised anyone can watch those things all the way through without falling asleep. And three, they are completely unrealistic."

"_Why do you say that?_"

"We could start with Susan's love life, if you want an example. True love didn't conquer everything for her. Look at that jerk, Derek. He smashed her heart into a bunch of itty-bitty pieces, so she nearly threw him into orbit before we could rip his limbs off for hurting her," he summarized, crossing his arms in front of him. "Like I said. Those movies are unrealistic."

"_But we love her and she loves us,_" Insectosaurus rumbled, looking at where he perched on the giant monster's head. "_And didn't everyone conquer an evil alien clone army because of that?_"

"That's different," he said quickly.

Insectosaurus shook his head, nearly dislodging Link from his position, "_There's lots of kinds of love. Why does true love have to be romantic?_"

"Because that's the only kind they ever talk about in your girly movies?"

"_But doesn't 'true love' just mean 'real love,' Papa? So if the love is real, then it means it is true love. Even if it isn't the kind of love that leads to weddings like Susan almost had before growing a little taller._"

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Link slid down the length of the monster's wing and landed lightly on the ground.

"That's it. We're cutting back on your chick flicks for a while."

Leaving the giant insect alone, he headed back to the main room. For the most part, Link did feel a little better than he did before talking to Insectosaurus. It was nice having someone believe that things would work out. That vote of confidence from Insecto helped make him feel less useless and helpless about the situation. Even if he didn't figure out anything really and part of the conversation started turning into a weird discussion about cheesy romance movies, he felt a little less tense than before.

That didn't, however, mean that whoever attacked his friend would get off the hook. No, they definitely wouldn't get away with this. As soon as the doc told him who was responsible, Link would hunt them down. And he meant that quite literally.

Humans forget that before they started wandering around this particular continent, Link and his species were already here. And even if some of the creatures in the deeper water and in the darker forests were more deadly and were whispered in stories that warned of wandering too far away from the family groups alone, Link and his species weren't helpless. They were predators, hunters, and dangerous foes.

The pointy teeth weren't just for show. Nor were the stronger limbs and powerful tail. There were generations upon generations of the strongest and smartest of them attacking creatures far larger and scarier than any human could ever be (with Susan on a bad day being the only exception to that). The females and the young of the species were guarded by a single male who would fight and defend against anyone and anything that threatened their family, regardless of how deadly or fierce the opponent might be. That was how it had been as far back as they could remember and it was what Link expected to do himself when he was growing up. They always protected their family.

And someone made the stupid mistake of attacking someone in Link's family. Soon they would figure out exactly why no one should mess with the monsters.

* * *

Susan tried to remind herself that this wasn't her fault. The boys had already told her that multiple times. Even Monger at one point mentioned it was equally his fault for being too lenient on inspecting their incoming mail. But since Dr Cockroach's packages often included things like rubber bands, computer chips, a staple gun, the engine of a DeLorean, assorted chemicals that she couldn't spell, a dozen aluminum cans, a graduated cylinder, a pair of pliers, a model of Big Ben, a set of glow-in-the-dark stars, nitroglycerine, several rolls of duct tape, clamps, beakers, wires of assorted thickness and length, a wind-up toy car, a few empty notebooks, pens, and an old pinball machine, how was the general supposed to know what would be considered "normal" packages and what would be considered a dangerous trap? And just like Monger couldn't have possibly predicted what would happen to Bob, she couldn't have predicted it either. So blaming herself was silly.

But that didn't really make her feel better. It just wasn't right that the most cheerful and sweetest monster she'd ever met had nearly been melted or something. And even if Dr Cockroach said the information needed to devise that plan could have been found even without the article, Susan still felt partially responsible. Even worse, she didn't know what she could do to help the situation.

She'd wanted to contact her parents, hoping that her mother and father would have some kind of words of wisdom and comfort. But she also didn't want to worry them with the idea that someone out there who might try to hurt their baby girl. And if Dr Cockroach was correct about this just being the first strike against the monsters, then there was a distinct possibility that she and the others could be next. Her parents would definitely react badly to the idea of people trying to hurt their daughter, so Susan couldn't tell them about what happened to Bob.

Of course, how could they hurt her? She was over forty-nine feet tall, super strong, and durable. Not even a giant alien robot could smash her. And the supposedly-indestructible force field was… destructible. How could someone human hurt her without breaking out something like a nuclear missile to throw at her? It seemed impossible.

On the other hand, it also seemed impossible to hurt Bob and yet someone managed that. With enough time and patience, it was theoretically possible that someone out there could figure it out. And even if they _couldn't_ leave a scratch on the giant woman, they could still go after the rest of her friends.

Susan ran a hand through her white hair. She hated thinking about the mysterious people trying to harm the others somehow. That could be a serious issue for one of the other monsters.

Yes, Insectosaurus was huge and that made him pretty tough. He was large even compared to her. If they had trouble damaging Ginormica, then the giant butterfly that she could easily ride on was definitely beyond their ability to hurt. Sheer size would protect him. And yes, Dr Cockroach specifically made himself durable and tough enough to survive whatever the world threw at him. She'd smashed him multiple times with a spoon (not the best first impression, but knocking Roxanne off the bleachers in middle school and breaking her arm was probably worse) and it barely slowed him down. And she'd been smashing pretty hard at the time. He was also smart enough that they wouldn't be able to out-think him now that he was aware of the danger. The mad scientist would be fine.

But that still left Link. He was tougher, taller, and stronger than the average human. And now that he was back in shape, he was a very skilled fighter. He was amazingly fast underwater and great whenever they needed someone to wrangle a dangerous problem that would be too awkward for a giantess to handle. There would always be places that she couldn't go or reach well enough to be much help, but Link could cover those areas quite well. As long as there weren't a lot of screaming girls in swimsuits to distract him, Link could be quite amazing. But he wasn't invulnerable and he wasn't a giant. Out of all of them, he was probably the one who could be hurt or killed by a human-sized threat. He was still tough enough that it wouldn't be easy for the average guy on the street, but someone already managed to hurt Bob and Link would be easier to kill than the blue blob.

She wasn't a genius, so she could only do so much to help Dr Cockroach research the possible culprits. And Bob now spent most of his time sleeping in his room (occasionally sleep-talking quite loudly about his gelatin girlfriend, llamas, and what sounded like "the horror of sparkly vampires"), so she couldn't really do much to help him. But Susan could still do something productive.

While she couldn't hold and read a physical copy, she mentally went over everything that she said in the interview for that article. Anything she'd said about her friends that could be turned against them, anything that could be used somehow to hurt them like those creeps hurt Bob, would be carefully considered and filed away in her mind for later. She was especially thorough about what she might have said about Link since he seemed like the easiest target. So far, she couldn't think of anything that could hurt them, but she wanted to be sure. If there was even the slightest chance that something she'd said would be turned into a weapon to attack her friends with, she would be prepared. She wouldn't let what happened to Bob happen to anyone else.

"Attention, monsters," announced General Monger, flying via jetpack into the room and interrupting her thoughts. "We have ourselves a situation."

"You managed to figure out where to find the idiot who tried to take out Bob?" asked Link.

"Not yet, unfortunately. Though I can guarantee that there won't be another little package of doom like that again. I chewed out the boys upstairs in security and told them that if they don't take a good long look at all packages from now on, they'll be stuck mopping every floor in this entire base with a toothbrush. And possibly facing a firing squad. I haven't decided completely on the second part yet, but I'm definitely considering it. And even if I don't, just the idea is enough to send those boys scurrying."

"Then what do you need, General?" Dr Cockroach asked, looking up from his computer for the first time in Susan couldn't even guess how long.

"Bit of an emergency in a little town called Tranquility Lake. It's a quiet place in California. At least it was until someone had the bright idea to try inventing an earthquake machine while standing next to a shelf of unstable chemicals that got struck by lightning. He sounds like your kind of mad scientist, Dr Cockroach. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to have your luck when it comes to weird transformations. He ended up as a weird purple cyborg-blob with about four arms and was the size of a semi-truck that, according to reports, started trying to shake the entire town apart."

"And you want us to go there and persuade him to stop," said Link, punching a fist into his palm in a clear indication of how that particular conversation would likely go.

The general nodded, "Preferably while there are still a few buildings left standing."

"What about Bob?" asked Susan, glancing towards the door to his room.

"Truthfully, he'll likely be far safer here," stated the mad scientist. "The only reason anyone was able to harm him in the first place was due to mailing the packages to a post-office box. There is no possible way they could easily locate the base and the security for the location is on high alert after that first act of aggression anyway, which means that no one would be able to make a second attempt against him."

There was a slight pause from the mad scientist, his antennas flicking back for a moment. And that hesitation as enough for Susan to guess what he was concerned about.

"Bob will be safe in here, but you're worried we won't be out there," she said carefully.

"Well, my dear, you must admit," he said, "if whoever sent that package did intend for it to merely be the start of an attack on all of us, the wisest move on their part would be to wait for us to leave the base. Out in the open and at a known location, the entire situation would leave us more vulnerable to whatever they have in mind. We're easier to locate when out in the field. Not to mention that when we are handling emergencies, we won't be focusing on defending ourselves from random civilians." Dr Cockroach shrugged, "If it was me planning to take out a large group of diverse monsters, this is exactly the sort of situation I would take advantage of."

His words weighed down on his audience, leaving the room silent for a moment. He was right. People would know where they were the instant they charged in. Between eye-witness accounts and the news, their presence when handling other monsters, aliens, or even natural disasters tended to attract attention. Especially when fights led to property damage or saved lives. Visiting her parents in Modesto didn't attract huge amounts of attention since the general public knew why she would be there. But if she or the other monsters appeared in other locations, everyone assumed there would be a dramatic battle that would look great once uploaded to the internet. This meant that if they went out, whoever wanted to hurt them would know exactly where to find them.

On the other hand, Susan knew that lots of people could be hurt if they didn't go. A crazy earthquake-generating monster could do a lot of damage if they weren't stopped. And as she'd already reassured herself, most of her friends would be pretty difficult to hurt by a regular human. If they were careful, they could take care of themselves. And since they _knew_ someone was out to get them, they'd be on guard against problems. She'd make sure to keep a close eye on Link while they were out there (without hovering over him so much that her protectiveness started hurting his pride), but they could still take care of things. They could still help people.

"We can't live in fear," she said slowly. "And we can't let everyone down. We've got to go, guys."

Link nodded, "Right, Suzie. And if anyone tries anything with us, I'll show them exactly how I held off the Coast Guard that one time."

"Then you all better get a move on," prompted Monger, soaring over the group with his jetpack. "I have a few pencil-pushers and egg-heads to 'encourage.' You're not the only ones trying to track those sneaky little varmints down."

* * *

One of the most useful parts about working in the media was that you often heard about breaking news before the rest of the population. So when Derek Dietl heard about a monster attack in a little town called Tranquility Lake, he quickly excused himself to one of the empty offices in back make a quick phone call.

"Soon I'll taste the sweet taste of revenge," he chuckled to himself while waiting for the phone to ring. "And it'll taste like HAM." Then he paused in confusion, "Why exactly am I talking to myself like that?"

"No idea," muttered a janitor as he pushed a broom by, causing Derek to jump in surprise at his presence.

"You heard nothing. Do you hear me? I'm on television. Granted, I'm stuck with only weather forecasts and the very rare fluff pieces with almost no chances for promotion due to… certain issues. But I am on the news and I could make you miserable," he threatened, pointing a finger at him. "You heard _nothing_."

"Whatever," the janitor shrugged before emptying the trash can.

"Hello," the gravelly voice said over his phone. "What is it?"

Smiling to himself, Derek announced, "There's a monster attack in the town of Tranquility Falls. From the sounds of it, they've already requested the aid of the other monsters."

"Sending monsters to fight monsters. How foolish can the world be that they believe that such idiocy will solve anything? But at least it'll bring our targets into the open." There was a pause before the gravelly voice stated, "I shall inform Mr. Brown that it is time for his contribution."

"Glad to hear it," he said. "I've got to get back. The weather is coming up soon."

As he hung up his phone, he gave the janitor a final glare. He hoped that his position as a weatherman would scare the man into silence about anything he'd witnessed. Though the bored expression on the janitor's face indicated his silence in the matter would be for a completely different reason.

**Yes, Link can understand Insectosaurus. Which is why his dialogue is represented as italics when shown from Link's viewpoint. No one else speaks giant monster insect, so they just hear roars. But Link can have surprisingly-meaningful conversations with Insectosaurus. As to why I made the giant monster a fan of chick flicks and oddly philosophical about some things… why not? If Insectosaurus is smart enough to help Link cheat at card games, then I say that he can have more characterization than "giant bug who is attracted to bright lights." So I decided to have fun with his personality a little to make him an overgrown kid who looks at things in a straightforward way that can turn into something that sounds rather profound. **

**As to why that particular conversation went the way it did, I can honestly say that it just happened. I started writing and somehow Insectosaurus and Link ended up talking about the concept of love for some reason. Go figure.**

**I also had some more reflective/worrying moments from Susan. She may have picked up some self-confidence and independence, learned how to define herself beyond "girlfriend/fiancée/wife" of Derek, and generally became pretty amazing over the course of the film, but the entire situation is going to still shake her up a little. No one likes having their friends hurt, especially if there is also a chance that it'll happen again.**

**Oh, and the little comment about Roxanne? I tossed that in because Dreamworks also made the movie "Megamind" and I wanted to add a little reference to that movie. This isn't a crossover; it was more of a mini shout-out to the film.**

**As for the whole "earthquake machine + random chemicals + bolt of lightning" thing? Yeah, that's a combo of Tesla's supposed earthquake machine plus the origin story of the Flash. It sounded suitable for the "Monsters Vs Aliens" universe. So I kind of borrowed it and twisted it for my own use. I also invented the town of Tranquility Lake because it sounded peaceful and ordinary. Which makes it perfect for random mutated monsters to attack.**

**So, anyone want to make any predictions about what HAM's next move will be? Who do you think will be their next target and how will they try to destroy him/her? I would love to hear your theories. I already know the answer, of course. But I do love hearing predictions.**


End file.
